Read Online The Christening Day Murder by Lee Harris - Free Book Online

something,” Deputy Drago said. “We did hear from one old fellow who searched his records right away and found nothing. That’s about where it is.”
    I asked him again to keep me in mind and rang off. A little while later, the phone rang.
    “Chris,” Sister Joseph’s voice said, “I’ve been trying you since early afternoon”
    I explained I’d been in the city and asked what was up.
    “I got an OK from the first convent I called. It’s just over the New York border in Pennsylvania, about twenty or thirty miles from where I estimate your Studsburg to be. How does that sound?”
    “It sounds wonderful. What order are they?”
    “They’re Josephites. It’s a small convent, and most of the nuns are older women, but that shouldn’t make a difference.”
    “It doesn’t.”
    “I think they’d be pleased if you participated.”
    “I look forward to it.”
    She gave me all the necessary particulars and I wrote them down, feeling a sense of excitement. People who are professional investigators, or professional anythings, have many options and great flexibility compared to an amateur. I can’t charge expenses to a client and I am therefore limited by my pocketbook, which is very spare. Having a safe, inexpensive place to stay—I would contribute to the convent—gave me the edge I needed to proceed.
    First I called Harry Stifler.
    “Yes, you’re right,” he said in answer to my question.“There were some families with money, and they did have housekeepers. The Randalls had a woman about the age of my mother, I’d guess, a Mrs. Quinn who’d been there for years. I wouldn’t be surprised if she went with them when they moved. But there was a young girl who worked for the Eberlings, and you know, there may have been a little hanky-panky going on. Check that list, Kix. I think they moved not too far from Studsburg.”
    He mentioned two other families, the Newburys and the Ritters, both of whom had young women in their employ. All three names were on the list, and the Ritters had apparently settled in a town in Westchester County, which is where I live. I got the number from information and called.
    “Hello?” an old woman’s voice said.
    “Mrs. Ritter?”
    “Yes? You’ll have to speak up, please. I don’t hear so well.”
    “Mrs. Ritter,” I said, raising my voice, “I’m a friend of Harry and Carol Stifler, who used to live in Studsburg.”
    “Studsburg? My, I haven’t talked to anyone from Studsburg for a long while.”
    I gave her a short explanation. “I was wondering about the young lady who worked for you in Studsburg. Do you remember her?”
    “You mean Darlene?”
    “Yes, it could have been Darlene. Do you remember her last name?”
    “Yes, it was Jackson, Darlene Jackson. She used to come and clean for us a couple of times a week. That was a big house we had in those day.”
    “Do you know what happened to her after you left Studsburg, Mrs. Ritter?”
    “She got a job somewhere; I don’t remember exactly. I think she may have gone to work for a real estate man or something like that.”
    “Did you ever hear from her?” I asked.
    “Yes, we did. A couple of years later she sent us an invitationto her wedding. We didn’t go, of course, but we sent a nice present. I think that’s what she wanted. And then a year or so after that, we got a snapshot of her with a little baby, and we sent another present. I don’t think we heard from her after that. The little fellow must be nearly thirty now.”
    I had cringed at her interpretation of why the wedding invitation had been sent. “I expect so,” I said, crossing her name off my list of possible leads.
    When I’d hung up, I checked the address for the Newburys. They had moved to Florida, and I decided to wait before calling them. Instead, I called Father Hartman.
    “Yes, Chris,” he said when I reminded him who I was. “Good to hear from you.”
    I told him I was informally looking into the Studsburg murder, and he asked if